


When this goes south, I'm blaming The Pepsi Cola Kid

by viennasunrise (kteaanne)



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel 616
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, Hurt Steve Rogers, Idiots in Love, Inspired by The Last Five Years, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Period-Typical Homophobia, Steve Feels, Steve Needs a Hug, Tony Angst, Tony Has Issues, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-05 11:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5373635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kteaanne/pseuds/viennasunrise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1949. New York City. Steve Rogers was four months away from finishing his art degree, two weeks away from being reunited with his best friend, and--unbeknownst to him--minutes away from meeting the love of his life. Everything finally felt like it was falling into place.<br/>==<br/>It turned out peacetime New York City was anything but peaceful for Tony Stark and there was someone, somewhere, intent on teaching him--once and for all--that bad things really do happen to good people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When this goes south, I'm blaming The Pepsi Cola Kid

**Author's Note:**

> Things are told from both of Tony and Steve's perspectives. The period-typical homophobia seriously impacts their relationship and each of them individually in different, but profound ways. They both kind of jump into a relationship with reckless abandon, for better or worse. I didn't want this to be a character development piece. This is completely about their relationship from beginning to end.

**Tony**  
**Present Day**  
He couldn’t get the sound of the door slamming shut out of his head; three drinks in and it kept echoing in his mind. He knew he’d crossed the line, that there was no coming back from this new low, but there was a part of him that had hoped Steve would be more understanding.

He scrubbed his free hand over his face, brushing away any evidence of his tears. With a quick flip of his wrist he downed what was left of his drink and threw the tumbler across the room. It wasn’t as satisfying as he’d hoped it would be.

It'd been three days since The Fight and he hadn’t heard anything from Steve. He’d tried calling, but Steve never answered and he wasn’t sure there was anything left to be said. He’d begged, pleaded, bargained, raged, sobbed, and rationalized. As much as he ached to talk to Steve, to have him back with him, he knew there was no changing Steve’s mind; it was over.

 

 **Steve**  
**January 1949**  
Winter in New York was kind of depressing. The vibrant city greyed over, losing some of its magic. It had never been Steve’s favorite time of year, even before the war, but now the cold aggravated his knee and he liked it even less. Turning his coat collar up against a particularly strong gust of wind, he lost himself wondering how Bucky was doing in Berlin. He was due back in the states in less than two weeks and the anticipation was slowly driving Steve out of his mind.

Despite enlisting on the same day, they had been apart for the duration of the war. Steve landed in Normandy a year after Bucky’s deployment to England and neither of them seemed to spend any time in the same country during the long march to Berlin. When the war was over, when Berlin finally surrendered and the last concentration camp had been liberated, Bucky volunteered to stay behind in Occupied-Berlin. Steve didn’t even find out about it until his boat docked back in the States.

The three years Steve had spent alone in New York weren’t his favorite, but they certainly didn’t qualify as the worst years of his life--those would always be reserved for Europe. He’d had a difficult time adjusting back to civilian life--most of his war buddies had--but he liked to think he was doing alright. He’d taken full advantage of the GI Bill and enrolled at NYU in the fall of ‘45 majoring in art and now, in his final year, he was ready to move on; ready to have his best friend back and start actually living his life.

The snow started to fall harder and he gave up walking home as a bad job. He ducked into the first coffee shop he saw, ruffling the snow out of his hair. He claimed a small table against the window and pulled out his sketch pad. It was filled with small doodles made by idle hands during moments of the day when Steve needed to let his mind wander safely. He lost himself in the rhythmic sound of charcoal on paper, letting his hand move unfiltered across the page.

By the time he came up for air the sun had set completely and the storm looked like it was finally on its way out. He ordered a coffee, not willing to head back to Brooklyn just yet, and settled back at the window to watch the snow fall calmly, blanketing the city in a fresh coating that would certainly be grey by morning. It was oddly peaceful, tucked up next to the window watching the snow fall. Almost as calming as his sketching session had been.

He was startled out of his trance after what felt like seconds when a devilishly handsome man, a thought Steve should really be avoiding, in a black overcoat plopped down in the chair across from him.

“May I help you?” he asked, his eyes raking over the man across from him.

“Depends,” the other replied, “how long are you going to sit here and monopolize my table?”

“I don’t see your name on it,” he locked eyes with the other man, willing himself not to go down that road. It was still illegal and he had to watch himself. An honorable discharge from the military wouldn’t save him if he got caught, not even in New York.

“How would you know? You don’t even know my name,” the other man winked.

Steve kicked himself internally. This was a dangerous situation and he needed out. “Well you're lucky, I was just about to pack up. I’ll be out of your hair in a second.”

“No, no rush. Don’t feel like you have to leave on my account. The name’s Tony, by the way. Thanks for asking.”

Steve chuckled. “Anytime, Tony. Nice to meet you.”

He threw a few dollars down on the table, set the sketch pad back in his portfolio, and threw his coat back on. He was almost out the door when the other man, Tony, called back to him.

“I didn’t catch your name, soldier.”

Steve ignored him. The wind had died down since the last time he’d been out on the street but the sun had taken with it any feeling of warmth. The air bit at him as he ran across Fifth and ducked into the park. He considered stopping at the Met before heading home but it was late and he still had a few projects to map out before the semester really got going.

“You know,” someone called from behind him, “after that, a fella might think you’re trying to avoid him.”

“Whatever gave you that impression?” Steve threw over his shoulder. The wind was picking up again so he wasn’t sure Tony could hear him.

“I basically ran you out of the place. Wouldja slow up a bit? It’s icy.”

“I so don’t need this right now,” Steve mumbled to himself. He slowed his pace, waiting for Tony to catch up.

“Where ya headed, handsome?”

Steve almost tripped over his own feet. “You do realize how dangerous it is to talk like that, right?” He glanced over at Tony, who was lazily smiling back.

“I don’t think it is with you. Why, am I wrong?”

In answer, Steve blushed.

“See,” observed Tony, “I’m perfectly safe as long as I don’t start yelling and you keep that ridiculous blush under control.”

Steve groaned. “Whatever gave you the impression that I was--that--?”

Tony laughed, patting him on the shoulder, “You’re not at subtle as you think you are. That’s all.”

“I’m not usually caught off guard like that.”

“I’m glad I scared you then. Are you ever going to get around to introducing yourself? I mean, I could just keep calling you solider but I have a feeling your actual name is better.”

“Steve. My name’s Steve Rogers.”

“Much better,” Tony said, extending out his hand.

Steve shook it and if he held on a little longer than was strictly socially acceptable what did it matter? It was dark out and it wasn’t like anyone was paying them any attention.

 

 **Tony**  
**Four Days Ago**  
“When were you going to tell me, Tony? Was this all just a sham to you?” Steve asked. He’d been waiting on the edge of their bed, a bag sat beside him on the floor.

Tony undid his tie and toed off his shoes, thinking carefully about how to answer. He needed Steve to understand. This wasn’t his choice--it was this or Steve. The minute they’d held that over his head they’d won. He knew he did it to protect Steve but he wasn’t sure that mattered anymore. Even if Steve was going to leave him now, which seemed likely, he needed him to know how real the their years together had been--how much they meant to him.

“We were never a sham. I meant everything I’ve ever said to you, the good and the bad. I have always loved you, Steve. What I did--what they made me do--is unforgivable. I know that. Just, please, stay and listen.”

Steve looked up at him, eyes bloodshot. “There is nothing you can say to me that is going to make this right, Tony. Bucky was all I had in this world. I don’t care about his mistakes, I wasn’t in Berlin with him. I don’t know why he did what he did. But you sold him out and now his life is over. How can you live with yourself?”

“Because it was you or Bucky and I knew what I couldn’t live through! They twisted my arm, Steve. If I didn’t do everything the way they wanted when they wanted it done, they were going to take you away and I couldn’t face that. I couldn't be the reason your life was ruined!”

“And you didn’t think _this_  might ruin my life? Did you even once think about what _I_  couldn’t live through? I could have dealt with having a sodomy charge on my record, Tony. I can’t live knowing my best friend… Did it ever cross your mind that Bucky might end up paying the ultimate price for this? Treason isn’t a joke, Tony. They’ll--,” Steve dropped his head and his shoulder started to shake.

He knew he shouldn’t, knew that Steve didn’t want to be anywhere near him, but he crossed the room and put his arms around Steve anyway. He couldn’t stand to see Steve this upset; couldn’t bear knowing that this was his fault. Yes, Bucky was a traitor but Tony had personally signed his death warrant. His lover’s best friend was going to hang and it was all his fault.

Steve jerked away. “Don’t--don’t touch me.”

“They threatened so much worse than a sodomy charge, Steve. They made it clear that either you took the fall or Bucky did. I’m not even sure they ever cared about our relationship.”

“You’re smarter than that, Tony. Don’t play dumb. Even if they’d tried to pin this on me it never would have worked. You panicked and instead of telling me what was happening you let them manipulate you into this. Bucky deserved better. I deserve better.”

“Steve, please--” Tony choked out. This was all too much. Way too much. He needed Steve to stay but he knew he was fighting a losing battle. The bag was already packed. Steve had already made up his mind. He was leaving and there was nothing Tony could do about it.

Steve stood, gripping the carpet bag tightly in his right hand, and, giving Tony one last withering look, crossed the room and slammed the door behind him.

 

 **Steve**  
**January 1949**  
Waking up next to Tony was something Steve was going to miss. The last two weeks had been somewhat surreal--Tony in his apartment when he came home from work, Tony sprawled out his sorry excuse for a sofa working, Tony pressed up against his chest lightly snoring--it was more than Steve had ever expected out of his life. But Bucky was coming home today and they couldn’t use his apartment as a hide out any more.

Before the war, Steve worried that Bucky had figured out he was gay; Bucky’d been trying to set him up on dates for years and Steve had always come up with a litany of excuses to avoid them, not all of them terribly convincing. He trusted Bucky more than anyone else on the planet, but Society demanded that he keep his secret. Before Tony he’d never indulged himself and now really wasn’t the time to spring it on Bucky.

Steve was supposed to meet Bucky at noon outside Grand Central Station and it was rapidly approaching ten. He rubbed his nose over the back of Tony’s neck a few times, trying to nudge him awake but it didn’t work. Tony burrowed deeper into the pillow, latching tighter to Steve’s arm.

“Tony,” he nudged his ear, “we have to get up. Come on, up and at ‘em.”

Tony grumbled and relaxed his vice-like grip on Steve’s arm. He untangled himself from Tony, brushed a quick kiss behind his ear, and headed for the shower.

By the time he’d finished, Tony’d gotten himself dresses for the day and packed up anything that had migrated over to Steve’s apartment in the last several weeks. It was bitter-sweet to see his bag packed on top of the newly made bed, full of the things Steve had become accustomed to seeing laying around the apartment over the last few weeks.

“You know,” Tony said, materializing in the doorway, “I’m going to miss this place.”

“I’m going to miss you here too,” Steve said, crossing the room. He ran his fingers through Tony’s hair, eliciting a soft humming sound, and planted a kiss on Tony’s forehead. “ But it’ll be fine.”

“You say that now,” Tony leaned up and kissed Steve gently, “but we both know we won’t see as much of each other now that you have a roommate.”

“True, but we’ll make it work. Now quit distracting me. You have a meeting and I can’t be late collecting Bucky.”

“Stark Enterprises can wait and you have plenty of time before you have to meet Bucky.”

“Tony,” Steve protested weakly, “I really don’t.”

“Spoilsport.”

They said the last of their goodbyes inside the safety of Steve’s living room and parted ways in front of his building; Tony grabbed a cab and headed for midtown while Steve pulled his coat up against the wind and headed for the nearest subway station.

* * *

Bucky’s train was delayed due to weather so Steve spent an hour or so reading the newspaper in a quiet corner of Grand Central Station. There were the usual anti-Russian propaganda pieces alongside actual news that just served to aggravate Steve. Sometimes he wondered why he volunteered to “save the American way” if this was how things were going to go now that the war was won. It was like Americans always needed a bad guy and now that Hitler was gone who better to blame the world’s problems on than “the Commies”.

“Steven Grant Rogers, put down the newspaper,” a very familiar voice said.

Steve looked up to see Bucky, a dame on his arm, smiling at him. He stood up, dropping the newspaper on the chair next to him, and pulled Bucky in for a hug.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Steve said when he released him. Bucky looked mostly like he remembered, a little war-torn, but weren’t they all now?

“It’s good to see you too, big guy,” Bucky laughed. “I want you to meet my wife, Natalie. Natalie, this is my best friend Steve.”

Wife? Since when did Bucky have a wife? Steve tried to remember what he’d said in his last few letters but there wasn’t anything that would even hint that Bucky’d gotten married.

“Charmed,” she said, smiling at Steve.

“You--when--,” Steve stammered, “You got married?”

Bucky grinned and dove into a lengthy explanation of how he and Natalie met. How she’d bumped into him at a jazz club and impressed him with her near perfect English. She’d grown up in Berlin and Bucky still couldn’t believe how well she’d mastered an American accent. Steve had to admit it was pretty impressive; there wasn’t much about her speech that would give her away as foreign.

They’d apparently spent the better part of Bucky’s time in Berlin dating and, when it came time for Bucky to come back to the States, they decided she was going with him and they got married the night before Bucky was sent home. It was kind of a miracle that she was even allowed to leave with him but somehow it all worked out.

Bucky filled the ride back to Brooklyn with stories of his time in Berlin, what it was like to work so closely with the Russian occupying force, how the German people were doing in the aftermath of a war that destroyed most of their country, what a god-send Natalie had been. Steve couldn’t manage to get a word in edgewise the whole way back to their apartment and by the time they’d arrived back at the apartment building, Steve started to feel like his life was careening out of control. He loved having Bucky back, but Natalie was a factor he hadn’t been expecting and now he had to face living with a newly married couple without Tony there as support. This was going to be so much more difficult than he’d anticipated.

 

 **Tony**  
**Four Days Ago**  
“Please state your full name, date of birth, and current occupation for the court.”

Tony leaned down to the microphone, “Anthony Edward Stark born the 29th of May 1912, Chief Executive Officer of Stark Enterprises.”

“And in what capacity did you serve this great nation during our most recent conflict abroad?”

Tony sighed, “I served as a lieutenant colonel in the United States Army under the direction of Major General Leslie Groves, but I don’t see what my military service record has to do with any of this.”

“That will be for the court to decide, Mr. Stark. Please answer the questions as they are asked and refrain from commenting.”

This whole circus was pointless and Tony knew it. They had all the evidence they needed to convict Bucky and his wife without forcing Tony to take the stand, but they were clearly intent on ruining his life. He locked eyes with Steve, he was seated just behind Bucky, and could do nothing to calm the look of confusion and hurt he saw there. This prosecutor was going to serve as the judge, jury, and executioner of their relationship and he was powerless against it.

“Mr. Stark,” the prosecutor continued, “can you identify the defendant?”

“His name is James Buchanan Barnes. He has been employed by Stark Enterprises for just shy of two years.”

“In what capacity?”

“Mr. Barnes has been employed by International Affairs department, mainly dealing with the division of Stark Enterprises headquartered in Germany.”

He spent what felt like hours explaining different pieces of evidence to the jury, how the story of Bucky’s service in Berlin didn’t add up, who--exactly--the woman known as Natalie actually was, and how Tony had been able to uncover all of this over the last few months. As he talked he watched Steve’s expression change from one of hurt and confusion to one of defiance and anger. He wasn’t sure if the anger was directed at him or at Bucky just yet, but he was sure whatever was left of their relationship after today wouldn’t last much longer.

“And after all of that research, Mr. Stark, what was the conclusion you came to?”

“That, while serving as a lieutenant in the United States Army in Occupied-Berlin, Mr. Barnes was recruited by a shadow organization known as the Red Room and turned double agent for the Soviet government. He spent the duration of his time in Berlin training under Natasha Romanov, also known as Natalie Barnes, in counterintelligence techniques to serve as a sleeper agent upon his return to the United States. While employed by Stark Enterprises he passed confidential and time-sensitive information to his contacts in Berlin, including several incomplete schematics of the A-bombs that were dropped on Japan at the end of the war.”

The uproar in the courtroom took several minutes to quiet before the defense was allowed to cross examine him, but nothing came of it. The evidence Tony had found against Bucky was air tight. There was no way out of this, no way to trip Tony up, no way for the defense to spin the evidence in any way that made Bucky look innocent.

It took the jury less than five minutes to find Bucky guilty of treason. Tony’s testimony had been the final nail in his coffin.

 

 **Steve**  
**April 1949**  
“She’s really something, Steve. Come out dancing with us tonight. I want you to meet her,” Bucky said. He was sprawled out on their sorry excuse for a sofa trying his best to get Steve to agree to a blind date.

“I don’t know, Buck. I have a lot of school work I need to finish. I have three pieces I’ve committed to for the gallery show next week and I’m not even halfway done with the first.”

“You’re just making up excuses. We both know you could finish those in a day if you had to. All you ever do is go to class and work. Live a little! Nat, back me up.”

“You should really come, Steve. Sharon’s a lovely girl.” Natalie said from the kitchen.

“This is a terrible idea,” Steve said. He wanted to weasel his way out of this, to rationalize that a blind date--even for appearances sake--was dishonest to Tony, but he couldn’t. Tony would understand; he’d been playing the game his whole life.

“So you’ll come?” Bucky asked excitedly.

“I’ll come. But I have a few errands I have to run first. I might be late.”

“Don’t be. Girls hate that.”

“I’ll do my best,” Steve said as he ducked out the door. Tony was waiting and he didn’t want to be late. A few days after Bucky’s triumphant return to New York, Tony lost his patience with sneaking around and rented out an apartment uptown under a false name for the two of them to share. It wasn’t huge but they didn’t really need a lot of space. Steve laughed when Tony slipped him the key after meeting for coffee one afternoon; it seemed a little over the top but that was just how Tony was. He wanted to argue that it was too much, too expensive and he couldn’t afford to pay for half of it, but he couldn’t bring himself to argue the point after Tony dragged him through the front door. Tony’s excitement was contagious.

* * *

An hour later, Steve found Tony asleep on the sofa in their apartment. He had a newspaper spread over his chest like he’d fallen asleep reading, he still had his shoes on and everything. Steve dropped down next to him, moved the newspaper to the coffee table, and pulled Tony against his chest. He’d missed him, it had been almost a week since they’d had any real time together.

“Hey,” Tony mumbled into his chest, “what took you so long?”

“Bucky and Natalie were hell bent on getting me to agree to a blind date for tonight,” Steve pouted.

Tony leaned up and kissed his jaw. “Sorry, love. Did you?”

“Yeah… I couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse and Bucky’s been trying to get me to go out with them for months. I figured it was probably a good idea just to cave.”

“Probably. Where are they dragging you off to?”

“Some dance club. Natalie wants to set me up with some girl from work. Her name’s Sharon.”

“She sounds nice,” Tony teased.

“Quit it,” Steve warned, “I was looking forward to staying here tonight.”

Tony nuzzled in closer, “Yeah, me too. How’s everything else?”

“Things are okay. I have my last gallery show next week and they’re expecting three different pieces from me but I’m struggling to come up with anything. I can’t decide if I want to make it a series or if it should just be three stand alone pieces. Bucky’s still looking for work, Natalie’s job really isn’t cutting it and things have been tight. Plus, they’re looking for a second inker at work because they want a backlog of strips to run just incase so they’re pushing me to take on more hours until they can find someone. I’m gonna be lucky if I can find three minutes to sleep this week.”

“As usual, I have the answers to all of your problems, quit your job and come work for the art department at SE. We need someone and you’re more than qualified. Second, do a series of charcoal cityscapes, like the one you were working on when we met. Third, there’s an opening for an international liaison at SE that Bucky would be perfect for. I’m supposed to be directly involved with the hiring for that position so I can make sure he gets it.”

“I can’t take that job, Tony. That’s just asking for trouble,” he looked down at the pathetic expression on Tony’s face and had hold back a laugh. “I want to, though,” he leaned down and kissed Tony. “As for Bucky, I think it’s a great idea and I’ll figure out a way to suggest it.”

“Good. You do that,” Tony said between kisses.

They spent the next few hours enjoying each other; first on the sofa and later in their bed. By the time Steve needed to leave he was exhausted and more than a little hungry. After a quick shower, he dropped a quick kiss on Tony’s mouth, promised to come back that night if he could, and rushed back to the subway.

* * *

Sharon was, like Natalie said, perfectly lovely. She seemed genuinely interested in Steve, something he was not prepared for, and got along well with Bucky. In a different world, the arrangement would have been perfect. As it was, Steve mentally spent the whole night back at the apartment with Tony and felt guilty about it.

At the end of the night, when Bucky and Natalie finally agreed that it was late and they should head home, Sharon told Steve she had a wonderful time, kissed him on the cheek and promised to call Natalie the next day. It was perfect, if you saw things from Bucky’s perspective.

“So…” Bucky asked after a while.

“So what?” Steve replied a little too quickly. He needed to work on that. Yes, he was annoyed that Bucky’d robbed him unknowingly of an evening with Tony, but that didn’t mean he should take it out on him.

“What did you think of Sharon?”

“She’s lovely.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “No, really. What did you think?”

“She’s very sweet. I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing her again.” He was kicking himself internally. That wasn’t fair to Sharon and, knowing Bucky, he was going to take this way too far.

Bucky smiled. “Good, because I’m pretty sure Natalie’s already planning your wedding.”

Yep, too far.

* * *

“Buck, look,” Steve said over breakfast. He’d found Tony’s advertisement for the job at SE and was determined to get Bucky to agree to apply today.

Bucky leaned over the table and scrunched his nose. “No way I’m qualified for that. They’d take one look at me and laugh me out of the room.”

“It couldn’t hurt,” Steve argued, “I don’t think you’re really in a position where you can afford not to at least try.”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll apply. Will you lay off?”

“Only if you promise to do it today.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

 

 **Tony**  
**Four Months Ago**  
“This is it. This is all I have. Can I go home now, please?” They’d had him trapped in this stupid interrogation room for the last four hours and he was sure Steve was wondering where he was by now.

“So long as this is, in fact, everything you have, Mr. Stark. Need I remind you of the delicate situation you find yourself in? If you are not fully cooperating I have authorization to place you and a Mr. Steven Rogers under arrest,” Goon Number Two threatened.

“This is it, I swear.”

“You understand, Mr. Stark, that the information you have given us implicates Mr. Barnes just as much as it implicates Mr. Rogers. You are quite sure this is all you have?”

Tony choked back a sob at the threat. Steve was innocent and they knew it. “It’s everything.”

“Then you’re free to go, Mr. Stark. Please return your visitors badge to the front desk on your way out,” Goon Number One smiled at him.

* * *

When he finally made it back to the uptown apartment, Steve had dinner mostly prepared and set out on the table.. Tony dropped his briefcase by the door, shed his coat and hat, and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist. Guiltily, he buried his face in the back of Steve’s neck. He’d done what the FBI had asked and it was all behind him now. He could look forward to a life with Steve without their idiotic threats hanging over him constantly.

“Hey,” Steve said, turning to plant a kiss on Tony’s temple.

“Hi,” Tony mumbled into his back.

“I missed you. How was work?”

“Fine,” Tony tried to keep his voice light but he knew Steve could tell he was lying.

“Doesn’t sound like it was fine. Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s fine, I’m just hungry. Can we eat now?”

“Sure. Go wash up.”

“Yes, mom,” Tony teased, dropping a kiss behind Steve’s ear.

He wanted to tell Steve what was really going on, to let him in on the secret, but he knew it would pop the bubble they were living in. Besides a few minor arguments, their relationship had been surprisingly easy, most likely a product of limited time together, and he couldn’t bring himself to end that. But honesty was the one thing he’d always promised Steve and he’d been breaking that promise for months. He wanted to come clean, he just couldn’t find a good way to word it.

Later, after they’d ended up tangled together on the bed, Tony found it increasingly more difficult to find an excuse to tell Steve what was going on. Steve was peppering kisses along his sternum, his hands running lightly up and down Tony’s back, disjointing his thoughts and making it pretty damn difficult to form a coherent sentence.

“Steve,” Tony said after a while, “I love you. Remember that.”

“Always,” Steve replied as his hands drifted south to Tony’s hips.

 

 **Steve**  
**September 1949**  
“Don’t make me do this again, Buck. This isn’t fair to her.”

“Steve, knock it off. She’s a swell girl and you need someone in your life. This is just you being stubborn.”

“It really isn’t,” Steve mumbled to himself. He tugged at his tie before trying to argue with Bucky again.

“Look, Steve,”Bucky continued, “you were right to make me apply to Stark Enterprises. I have this job because of you. Now let me return the favor. Or are you really going to try and tell me you want to spend the rest of your life a bachelor?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Buck, I know your heart is in the right place here, but I really don’t think it’s fair to keep going with Sharon when I’m not interested.”

“Well why aren’t you!” Bucky threw his hands in the air, exasperated, “She’s beautiful, talented, sweet, charming… She’s everything you deserve, Steve. What’s wrong with you?”

Steve winced. “Nothing’s wrong with me, Buck. Sharon just isn’t _the one_.”

“Quit it with this ‘the one’ thing. That’s a fairytale. You really think Natalie’s my soulmate?”

“Judging by the way you two can communicate without words, yes, I do.”

“Ha-ha. I’m trying to be serious.”

“Who said I was kidding?”

“Ugh. Is there something you’re not telling me? Some girl you’ve met at work or something?”

“Or something, yes. Look,” Steve said, tearing off his tie, “I’m not going to keep leading Sharon on when I know it’s not going to go anywhere.”

Bucky put his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, so who’s the someone else? Do I know her?”

“No, and at the rate you’re going I’m never introducing the two of you.”

“Fine, be that way,” and like the mature adult he was, Bucky stuck his tongue out in protest.

“I’m so glad we can be adults about this,” Steve laughed.

Steve called Sharon and explained that, while she was a wonderful girl, he didn’t see this going any farther and thought it was best if they stopped seeing each other. She was kind about it, said she understood, and the phone call was much briefer than Steve had been expecting, for which he was grateful.

That was, until Natalie got home from work the following day and smacked him upside the head.

“Don’t ever do that again. I do not care what James has said to you, or how he’s tried to pressure you into going along with his plans. You hurt that girl and you will not do it again.”

“I know, I won’t let it happen again.” He probably should have argued, maybe defended himself that he’d liked her but wasn’t sure until recently, but he couldn’t bring himself to argue with her.

“Steven,” Natalie said, settling down at the table next to him, “someday you will have to be brave enough to tell James the truth.” She grabbed one of his hands.

“I--” Steve started.

“No, don’t play dumb with me,” she squeezed his hand, “We both know why you decided not to continue pursuing Sharon and it wasn’t because you’ve met another girl.”

Steve started to panic; tried to come up with something to say to knock Natalie off track, but he came up blank.

“I’ll keep your secret,” she smiled sadly at him, “but you have to promise me that one day you’ll be honest with James. Nothing you can say to him will make him love you any less. Remember that, Steven. You are dear to him, to both of us.”

“I--I,” Steve stammered, “someday. I can promise someday.”

“Good,” Natalie said, standing up, “now what are we supposed to be having for dinner?”

* * *

“Natalie knows.” Steve said as soon as the door latched behind him.

“Knows what?” Tony asked from the sofa.

Steve crossed the room and dropped down next to Tony, leaning into his chest. “I told Bucky to back off yesterday and I ended things with Sharon. Natalie put two and two together and made me promise that I’d tell him the truth someday.”

Tony’s arms wound around him, pulling him close, before planting a kiss on his forehead. “Well today isn’t someday. When you do decide to tell him, it’ll be when you’re ready. Don’t stress about it now.”

Steve wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist, holding on for dear life. “He’s going to hate me. I’ve been lying to him for years.”

“He’s not going to hate you, Steve. He might be mad for a while, but those two things aren’t the same. He loves you. You know that.”

Steve sighed, “yeah, I do.”

“I love you,” Tony whispered.

“Me too,” Steve said, closing his eyes. He relaxed, finally, into Tony’s chest feeling at home for the first time in a long while.

 

 **Tony**  
**Nine Months Ago**  
There was a knock at the door. “Mr. Stark?”

“Yes, Miss Potts?”

Pepper poked her head around the door to his office, a startled expression on her face. “There are a few gentlemen here from the FBI who would like a word. Do you have a moment?”

Tony rolled his eyes, dropping the report he’d been reading back onto his desk. “Send them in.”

Two federal goons in the worst tailored suits Tony’d ever seen walked in and set themselves down on the other side of his desk.

“Mr. Stark, we’re from the Federal Bureau of Investigation--”

“I figured when my PA told me there were some agents from the FBI here to see me. What can I help you with?”

Goon Number One scowled across the desk at him.

“We are here at the request of Mr. Hoover himself. We know you served this nation faithfully during the war against fascism, sir, and Mr. Hoover now needs your help in the war against the commies.”

“What in the world does Hoover think I can do for him?” Tony asked, barely keeping his temper in check.

“We have intercepted some information that implies there are subversive, communist sympathizers employed by your company. We have information that two soviet sleeper agents, code names Winter Soldier and Black Widow, have infiltrated the United States and are stationed in New York. Some intel recovered during a raid in Berlin leads us to believe that one of them is employed by Stark Enterprises.”

“Lovely. I fail to see how this has anything to do with me,” he was seriously about to lose it. They had no right to waltz into his office and accuse him of treason.

“You misunderstand, Mr. Stark. We are asking for your help to suss the traitors out, not to accuse you of treason.”

“If Hoover wants to find them, Hoover can damn well do it himself. Lord knows the man has the resources.”

“As it happens,” Goon Number One smiled dangerously at him before dropping a folder on his desk, “Mr. Hoover feels quite strongly that you are the best resource for the job.”

Tony picked up the folder, curiosity got the better of him, and nearly broke down in tears. There it was, the one thing Hoover could hold over his head and use to manipulate him. They had everything. The paper trail linking the uptown apartment back to him, the travel records from their anniversary trip to France, pictures of him and Steve in compromising situations, and Steve’s complete employment record, right down to the letter of recommendation Tony had one of the directors from the marketing department write for him.

“Mr. Hoover feels it would be in your best interest to cooperate.” Goon Number Two snarled, “Otherwise he is more than willing to pursue legal action against you and a Mr. Steven Rogers to the fullest of the law.”

“What do you need me to do?”

* * *

The birthday party the executives at SE had thrown him was, by all accounts, depressing. It was a forced celebration, they obviously felt obligated to praise their dear leader for living another twelve months. To add insult to injury, they’d held it at the end of the day; preventing Tony from ducking out and rushing uptown to spend the rest of forever with Steve. After the day he’d had, he wasn’t willing to let that man out of his sight ever again. Hoover’s goons terrified the hell out of him.

When he did finally make it uptown, he found the apartment empty. Steve left a note explaining he had to run out but would be back shortly. He didn’t timestamp it and Tony’s imagination ran wild, assuming the absolute worst. After checking that the curtains were completely closed, a precaution they should have been taken this whole time, he paced the apartment for what felt like hours, constantly on the edge of absolute panic.

Finally, mercifully, Steve showed up about forty-five minutes later and Tony, in relief, damn near tackled him to the floor.

“Ohthankgod,” he said into Steve’s shoulder, “where were you?”

“I just ran to get an bottle of champagne,” Steve sounded on edge, “Tony, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yes, I’m fine,” he mentally chastised himself for freaking Steve out, “long day, that’s all.”

“Are you sure? You look terrible.”

“Gee, thanks. You really know how to make a guy feel great on his birthday.”

“Well,” Steve said, stooping to kiss him, “you are an old man now.”

“Shut up,” Tony said against his lips, “I’m only six years older than you.”

“And you’re getting paranoid in your old age.”

Tony didn’t have a response to that, so he pulled Steve back in for another kiss, this one much deeper than the last. When they came up for air--both completely out of breath--Steve rested his forehead against Tony’s, trying to even out his breathing.

“What,” he said after a moment, “has gotten into you?”

“Nothing. I just figured birthday sex was on the table.”

Steve laughed, the force of it easing the last of the tension out of Tony’s body. His breathing evened out as he buried his face in Steve’s neck.

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat first?” Steve asked as he tucked his thumbs in Tony’s belt.

“No, we probably should,” Tony said, pushing away from Steve.

“Tony,” Steve sounded concerned. He grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him back, “are you sure everything’s okay?”

Tony sighed. “I--it’s fine, Steve. Or at least it will be. Come on, let’s celebrate.”

Steve looked at him for a minute longer, his eyebrows creased in worry, before he pulled him back to his chest, burying his face in Tony’s hair.

“I love you,” he said.

“I know.”

 

 **Steve**  
**One Year Anniversary**  
“Where are they sending you?” Bucky asked.

“Chicago. They want me to meet with the director of the art institute there.”

In reality he was headed to Paris with Tony for a week. They’d argued about it, Steve was much more in favor of hiding out in their apartment, but Tony insisted. They had tickets to fly out the following morning.

“And it’s going to take you a week to talk to him about a bunch of stupid paintings?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “They’re not stupid paintings, Buck. It’s Neo-Classic art and it’s important.”

“I had enough of that stuff when I was stuck in Berlin to last me a lifetime.”

“Don’t let Natalie hear you say that. When she found out I was going she talked my ear off about Caspar David Friedrich. Apparently he was some kind of prolific German Romantic painter and she loves him.”

“I do not need this in my life,” Bucky laughed, shaking his head. “Remind me why you took the job at the Met instead of the one I found for you at Stark Enterprises?”

“Because I’d rather be around actual art than be trapped in a marketing department selling whatever new fangled gadget your boss can come up with.”

“Hey,” Bucky protested, “Stark a genius. That man is going to change the world.”

Steve silently agreed. “We’ll see.”

* * *

France as a civilian was, in Steve’s newly formed opinion, so much better than it had been during the war. He was hesitant to come back--something Tony didn’t quite understand--but now that they were there he was having a having a hard time remembering why. When he’d been in France during the war his unit hadn’t been anywhere near Paris so it was easier to compartmentalize than Steve expected.

Tony, for his part, was so enthusiastic about getting away from New York that it started to rub off on Steve. They’d ended up spending most of their time locked away in their rented apartment in the art district generally enjoying the freedom being alone provided. Not really needing any of the clothes they’d brought along didn’t hurt much either.

But the best part of the trip wasn’t even the sex--not that Steve was complaining. Having Tony’s undivided attention was something he was going to miss when they headed back to New York. There were no distractions here, no Bucky to placate or a company to run. For once they had the chance to just be _Steve and Tony: Two Idiots Very Much in Love_  and he was going to miss that.

For their last night in the city Tony had an enormous amount of food and booze delivered to their apartment along with several deserts Steve had never even heard of before. They ate and drank their way through the horde before Steve--tipsy from too much champagne--dragged Tony back to bed.

“Remind me,” Tony huffed as he dropped his head back down on Steve’s chest, “why we haven’t just moved here?”

“It’s a fair question,” Steve hummed, running his fingers through Tony’s hair. “But we both know we can’t.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t dream,” Tony mumbled against Steve’s skin.

“Same here,” Steve said, closing his eyes.

Lying quietly in bed with Tony, the sounds of Paris floating through the open window, was oddly hypnotic and he found himself dozing off, more contented than he’d ever remembered feeling before.

 

 **Tony**  
**Christmas 1949**  
Christmas in New York was always his least favorite time of year. The snow always turned into grey slush, the tourist problem always got worse, and it was cold--chill you to the bone cold. He’d never really cared much for Christmas either. It was always nice to get gifts but his parents had always pawned the responsibility off to the staff and disappeared for separate vacations.

This year was different. Steve was genuinely excited to celebrate Christmas with him and not just the obligatory parts. When he showed up to their apartment for dinner the week before Christmas, Steve had asked him if they could pick out a tree--an honest to god pine tree--and decorate it together. What choice did he have?

On Christmas Eve, Tony ducked out of the office several hours early. He had plans and he wanted to make sure the apartment was perfect before Steve got off work and made it uptown. He’d planned Steve’s gift out months ago, not that he was really expecting things to have lasted this long, and had it tucked away in the bottom drawer of his desk.

Instead of coming home to a quiet apartment, he walked in on Steve cooking something in the kitchen, back to the door. Tony cleared his throat, just loud enough to startle Steve, and laughed when he dropped the spoon he’d been stirring with on the floor.

“Excuse you, why aren’t you at work?”

“They let us go early,” Steve glared at him, “and I figured I’d come take care of dinner before you could burn it.”

“Very funny,” Tony snarked back. He pulled his gift from his coat pocket and dropped it under the tree before sauntering into the kitchen and thoroughly kissing Steve hello.

“Merry,” he said between kisses, “Christmas.”

Steve hummed in response, pulling Tony flush against him by the hips. They stayed like that, wrapped around each other in the kitchen, for a long while--Steve’s gravy completely forgotten. Until it burnt. Steve panicked and threw the whole thing in the sink.

“Look what you’ve done!” Tony teased, “And to think you were worried that I’d burn dinner.”

“It’s your fault,” Steve laughed, “if you hadn’t distracted me we’d have plenty of gravy.”

“I literally could not care less about the gravy,” he said before planting a kiss to Steve’s jaw. “So let’s eat everything else you made, because I’m sure it’s delicious, and then I’m going to make you open your present because I literally cannot wait another second and I’m selfish like that.”

Dinner was the best thing he’d ever eaten. But it he usually felt that way when Steve cooked. If it was legal, he’d pay that man to stay home all day and do nothing but cook him delicious things to eat… in nothing but an apron. Maybe that was going a little far. Who cares, it’s his fantasy.

“Okay,” he pulled Steve over to the sofa and dropped the gift in his lap, “open it.”

Steve popped the box open, Tony didn’t see the need for paper, and pulled out an antique pocket watch.

“It was my grandfather’s,” Tony cleared his throat uncomfortably, “his father bought it for him when he left home for Harvard and he gave it to my dad when he married my mom. I ended up inheriting it when they died and it’s just been sitting in my desk at home, collecting dust. It’s--it’s the one thing I have that could count as a family heirloom; I really think you should have it.”

“Tony,” Steve sounded like he was about to cry, “this is--it’s--wow.” He pulled Tony in by the tie and kissed him--hard. “This is probably too much but if you really want me to keep it, I will.”

Tony hesitated. He'd thought about her to explain this right a million times but now that the moment was here, he wasn't so sure he was going to get it right. “In a perfect world, this would have been a proposal… But all we’ll have is this apartment and a few stolen hours. We can’t even tell our friends we’re together--much less get married. You’re the closest thing I have to family and I needed you to know that.”

Steve looked at him like he hung the moon. "If it makes a difference, I would have said yes.”

Tony leaned in and lost himself in Steve for a minute. There was nothing in the world but the two of them, pressed up together in their too small--technically illegal--apartment. “In a weird way,” he said as he pulled away, “it does. Now what do I get to unwrap?”

Steve laughed and reached under the sofa pulling out what looked like a canvas.

“I didn’t have a chance to wrap it because someone,” he bumped Tony’s nose with his, “decided to show up early.”

He turned it around, revealing a charcoal portrait of Tony asleep. The lines were soft, gently placed on the page, and he could almost picture Steve, his fingertips black, quietly sketching next to him in bed. He willed himself to keep it together but his body betrayed him. Steve set the canvas down, took Tony’s face in his hands, and wiped a tear away with his thumb.

The whole thing was bittersweet. Yes, they had each other but not in the way they deserved. He didn’t have to go through life completely alone but his time with Steve was limited. Sometimes Tony had to tell himself that it was enough; there was nothing he could do to change the world, he had to just get over it. Other times, like right now, he wanted to curse the world for its ignorance.

Steve kissed him softly and an unspoken sadness settled in the room. They sunk down into the sofa, Steve pulling Tony to his chest, and they held each other long past the time they both should have headed for home.

 

 **Steve**  
**Six Months Ago**  
Bucky was due home from work any minute and Steve was about to have a freak out. He’d finally made the decision to tell him the truth--the whole truth--and he was starting to second guess himself.

He probably would have chickened out if he hadn’t told both Tony and Natalie already. Tony had been quite supportive, just like he’d been when Steve told him that Natalie figured it out, and had even offered to be there as emotional support. But Bucky’s reaction to coming home and seeing his boss on his sofa probably wouldn’t have made the rest of the evening go any smoother so Steve politely declined.

Natalie, for her part, was very good about it. She promised to stay in the other room and only intervene if Bucky had a freak out, which she didn’t think was likely. She was convinced he would be understanding and supportive but Steve was still nervous. It wasn’t every day that you told your best friend that you are romantically interested in men and are dating his boss. This was going to go oh so well.

The sound of Bucky’s key in the lock made him jump, his adrenaline levels spiked, and he suddenly felt very, very small. Which was insane because he easily had twenty pounds on Bucky and used it to his advantage all the time.

“Hey Buck,” and damn if he didn’t sound like he was having a freak out, “how was work?”

“Um, fine. What’s up with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Can we talk?”

Bucky threw his keys and bag on the table before throwing himself down on the sofa next to Steve. “What’s up?” he said, tugging at his tie. It was now or never.

“I have something I need to tell you,” suddenly staring at his own hands became the most interesting thing of all time, “and I need you to be understanding about it.”

“Steve, come out with it already. You’re freaking me out.”

Steve took a long breath, closed his eyes, and jumped. “There wasn’t another girl, when I made you back off about Sharon. There is someone else, and they’re very important to me. But they’re not--in the strictest sense--,” he glanced over at Bucky, “a girl.”

He expected Bucky to jump off the couch and look at him like he’d never seen something so disgusting in all his life--it was what he’d been conditioned to expect. That was just how Society saw him. The way he felt about Tony, the fact that he was attracted to other men, was something to be disgusted by.

Instead, Bucky’s face broke into a wide grin and his eyes teared up.

“Steve,” he said thickly, “you’re telling me you have a boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” and it was barely a whisper.

“Are you happy?”

Steve looked up again and smiled. “Very.”

“Good,” Bucky grabbed his shoulder and squeezed, “can I meet him?”

“You’re taking this a lot better than I thought you would.”

“You’re avoiding the question. Can I meet him?”

“I guess, but only If he’s okay with it.”

“Then call him. Like, right now.”

Steve laughed. “Really? We’re really doing this right now?”

“Hell yes. There’s someone that is important enough in your life that you’d go out of your way to sit me down and explain the whole thing to me. I’m your best friend, Steve. I think I deserve to meet this guy. Obviously he’s worth it.”

“He is,” Steve smiled, “but if he agrees to come over here and meet you, you have to promise me that you aren’t going to freak out or throw things. He is the best thing to ever happen to me and if you run him off, I will never forgive you.”

“Geez, calm down, Steve. I’ll be on my best behavior. Scouts honor.”

“You were never a scout,” Steve laughed. He picked up the phone, hoping Tony was still in the office, and dialed. He picked up on the second ring.

_“Stark,”_

“Um, Hi.”

_“Steve? How did it go? Are you okay? Do I need to come over there and beat Bucky’s ass?”_

For the first time in hours Steve relaxed. Hearing Tony’s voice was infinitely more relieving than Bucky’s actual reaction. “No, he actually took it really well. He, ah, wants to meet you.”

_“Really? Did you tell him who I was?”_

“No. I just made him promise not to freak out when he met you. Because he’s probably going to.”

“I will not!” Bucky yelled from the couch.

_”If you want me to, I will. But only if you really want me to. It’s your call, Steve.”_

“I think I do. As much fun as sneaking around has been, and I assure you it hasn’t been fun for months, I really want you to meet him.”

_”I can be there in an hour.”_

“Are you sure? It’s kind of sudden and we had dinner plans.”

_”Of course I’m sure. This is important to you so it’s important to me. We can have dinner at your place if we have to.”_

Steve looked over at Bucky, suddenly very aware that he was not alone talking to Tony, and sighed. “Thank you,” he whispered, “and hurry. I miss you.”

_”I’ll be there as soon as I can. Love you.”_

“Me too,” and the line went dead.

Natalie emerged from her hiding place and smiled warmly at Steve. “I take it we’re having four of us for dinner tonight?”

Steve smiled back. “Yeah. We are."

* * *

Tony managed to make it Brooklyn in half the time so, when the knock came at the door, Steve did nothing to stop Bucky from answering it. What followed was one of the funniest moments of Steve’s short life. Bucky nearly had a heart attack, assumed incorrectly that Tony had shown up to personally fire him, and started panicking. Tony, forever to his credit, offered his hand, introduced himself as “Steve’s dirty little secret”, and winked. Bucky almost fell over.

Meeting Natalie was much smoother. She politely introduced herself and thanked Tony for “taking such good care of Steve” before disappearing to the kitchen with Bucky in tow, providing much needed space for Tony to actually set foot in the apartment.

Dinner went much more smoothly. Bucky, after having time to adjust, grilled them about their relationship, chewed Steve out for lying to him about going to Chicago, and seemed truly offended that there was ever a worry that he would hate Steve for being gay. Things couldn’t have gone better if Steve had orchestrated the whole thing himself.

Letting his best friend in on his secret was the most freeing thing Steve had ever done. He finally, for the first time in his life, could be himself at home. Tony was, for better or worse, finally a tangible fixture in his life. Who cared that they couldn’t be together in public. They could at least be together during all the moments that mattered most. Birthdays, holidays, lazy Sunday afternoons. He suddenly felt excited for their future together. Maybe this would all work out.

 

 **Tony**  
**July 1949**  
Celebrating the birthday of the boyfriend you weren’t supposed to have was difficult--especially when their birthday was oh so conveniently on Independence Day. But Tony had a plan.

Bucky had insisted that Steve and Sharon spend the day together; obviously he wasn’t about to let his best friend spend the day alone. They were attending the parade that morning, followed by lunch in the park, and a birthday dinner back at the apartment. It was terribly inconvenient and Steve, not for a lack of trying, couldn’t come up with an excuse Bucky would accept. That was where the plan came in.

Every year Stark Enterprises held a party for the staff. Every year up until now it had been optional. If--for some unexplainable reason--Tony suddenly decided the party was mandatory, so what? When the invitations were sent around corporate headquarters Tony got his share of complaints but it didn’t matter. It was literally the only way he was going to see Steve on his birthday and nothing his minions said would derail the plan.

By the time Bucky-and-Co showed up, the party was in full swing. There were hundreds of people there and it was easy to get lost in the crowd--making it that much easier for Steve to disappear for an hour or so.

Tony met him in the stairwell and pulled him--none too gently--up to his office, locking the door behind them.

Steve pushed him up against the wall, wrapped his hands around his waist, and promptly kissed him into oblivion. Suddenly an hour didn’t seem like enough time.

“Are we doing the birthday sex thing, because that would very much be an acceptable activity right now,” it was literally the only thing his hormone-riddle brain could put together.

Steve rolled his hips into Tony’s in answer. His brain instantly disengaged. Mission accomplished.

 

 **Steve**  
**Three Months Ago**  
The pounding on the door scared the crap out of him. He was elbow deep in a new book Tony’d recommended and he wasn’t expecting company.

“FBI,” yelled a voice on the other side of the door, “we have a warrant for the arrest of a Mr. James Buchanan Barnes. Open the door or we will knock it down.”

Steve was dumb struck. Bucky came running out of his bedroom, a terrified expression on his face, and ripped open the door.

“I’ll come willingly, but you have to leave my wife and my roommate out of this.”

“Are you James Buchanan Barnes?”

“Yes.”

“Then I don’t think you’re in a position to be making demands. You’re under arrest for treason and seditious acts made against your country.”

“Bucky?” Steve was so very confused.

“Don’t worry about it, Steve. Just, tell Natalie what happened. It’ll be ok,” Bucky said as they escorted him out of the apartment. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine,” he yelled over his shoulder, and then he was gone.

Steve immediately called Tony, barely keeping it together.

_”Stark.”_

Steve sobbed in response.

_”Steve? What’s happened?”_

“Bucky’s been arrested. For treason. The FBI just barged in and took him away.”

Tony sighed on the other end of the line. _“I am so sorry. Do you need me there?”_

“Natalie doesn’t know yet. I have no idea where they took him. I--I don’t understand any of this.”

_”I’m sorry, love. I really am. Do you need me there?”_

“Not yet. I need to talk to Natalie first. Can you just make sure you come here after work? I think I can handle things until then.”

 _”I--yeah, I can do that,”_  he sighed again,  _“just--Steve?”_

“Yeah?”

_”I love you, that’s all.”_

“Yeah, me too.”

_"I’m gonna need you to say it.”_

Steve laughed weakly. “Fine, Mr. Needy. I love you, too.”

* * *

Natalie, for reasons Steve will never understand, was terribly calm about the whole thing. The minute Steve finished the story she swore, threw her purse back over her shoulder, and dragged Steve out of the apartment. Before he really knew what had happened he found himself in the lobby of the FBI field office in Manhattan where Natalie demanded to speak with her husband.

They were less than politely ignored for several hours and, when they were finally acknowledged, they were told to come back in the morning. Bucky had evidently asked for a lawyer and he wasn’t allowed visitors until the interrogation was complete. It was a long subway ride back to Brooklyn.

Tony was waiting outside the apartment when they got home and Steve, without hesitation, pulled him into his bedroom immediately. He locked the door, dropped onto the bed, and broke apart. Tony held him for hours until the sobs faded into labored breathing and finally--mercifully--Steve was able to fall asleep.

 

 **Tony**  
**February 1949**  
He wasn’t sure he’d been this happy in his entire life. Following Steve out of that coffee shop had been the dumbest, most impulsive thing he’d ever done. He’d been fairly sure Steve was interested, pretty sure he’d checked him out the minute Tony plopped himself down at the table, and damn sure he didn’t care if he was wrong. It was too good an opportunity to pass up.

And it ended up being the best decision of his life.

He’d tried this, the relationship thing, before but it had always been for appearances sake. His PA and he had given it a real go. Pepper was wonderful and Tony would have been lucky to have her around for the rest of his life. She’d tried, really tried, to make it work between the two of them. But Tony’s heart hadn’t been in it and it was honestly a miracle that she still worked for him. She deserved a lot better than him and he knew it.

Things with Steve were easy. It was like breathing. He didn’t have to overthink things or make sure he was properly affectionate when he should be. It just came naturally to him. He suddenly understood what people meant when they raved about “love at first sight”--even if he wouldn’t admit it to Steve. It had been the best month of his life; it was the start of something real and he was, for the first time in his life, excited for the future.

 

 **Steve**  
**Four Days Ago**  
Hurt. Betrayal. Disbelief. That was just the short list of things Steve felt when Tony took the stand. He listened to every word Tony said, every little thing he’d learned about Bucky over the last nine months, and it killed him.

Things were always supposed to be clearer in hindsight but, looking back, he couldn’t see the shift in their relationship; couldn’t pinpoint the minute that Tony had started lying to him.

Maybe it had always been that way; maybe their whole relationship had been a sham. Nothing could have prepared him for this moment. He’d given himself over to Tony completely this was what he got in return. Lies, deceit, betrayal. Nothing he’d ever done was worth this punishment. This would break him.

He decided then and there, listening to Tony’s account of his betrayal, that he was done. Done with Tony, done with Bucky, done trying to be the person people expected him to be. When this day was over, and he promised himself he would stick it out to the bitter end, he would pack his bags and leave. This city was toxic to him now. He needed to be far, far away.

This wasn’t what he fought for during the war. He didn’t fight to see his best friend turn a traitor and sell state secrets to a foreign power that was perfectly willing to use that information to kill innocent people. He didn’t fight to live in a world that would turn his own family against him. He didn’t fight for any of this. America was supposed to stand for something different.

* * *

When the trial was over, after Bucky was found guilty and Tony disappeared from view, Steve walked back to the uptown apartment to pack his things. Methodically he went through the apartment, careful to erase any sign that he’d ever spent time there, and packed it away in a carpet bag he’d borrowed from Natalie--well, Natasha.

He waited, patiently, for Tony to show up. He was sure--absolutely sure--he would come to apologize and he wished desperately that he could accept it. But nothing in the world could undo what had happened. The damage was done. Bucky would probably hang for his crimes and Tony was directly responsible for that.

The Fight was awful. He wanted to hear everything Tony said, he’d wished so desperately to know that their time together hadn’t been a lie, but hearing it confirmed made it that much harder to leave. As he stood up, bracing himself for how painful walking out the door would be, he allowed himself one last look at Tony--and it nearly broke him. He would always love that man, always wish he could find it in himself to forgive him, always wish their story had played out differently. But he needed to be free of it all. He needed time to sort everything out. He set the pocket watch down on the bed next to him and, without another word, marched out of the apartment.

He managed to keep it together until he was locked safely behind his apartment door. The minute the door latched he colapsed into tears and wept for all he had lost. Bucky was gone, most likely to the gallows, Natalie had disappeared before the trial ever began, and Tony had been the catalyst. Steve wasn't sure if he blamed Tony for it all, Bucky made his choice, but he would irrevocably be associated with the death of Steve's best friend. It was too much and there was no going back now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene when Tony gives Steve the pocket watch almost broke this story. I literally had to take a Tumblr break for like an hour before I could keep writing.
> 
> If you didn't catch it, Tony worked on the Manhattan Project during the war.


End file.
